Read Online Changing Focus by Marilu Mann - Free Book Online Page A

if you don’t mind getting it? I take mine black.”
    It felt natural to clear the dishes as Micah moved to the wood hopper to build the fire up again. Olivia rolled her neck then set the plates on the counter. She poured the coffee and turned back to find Micah right there.
    “You move so fast and so silently. You nearly wore this coffee.” She looked at his hand now holding one of the cups. He’d grabbed it in self-protection. “I didn’t even know you were there.”
    “Didn’t you?” His soft voice held a note of question. Olivia just shook her head and laughed at him. His eyes shifted color again. She didn’t know how he did that. She’d never met anyone with changing eyes. They seemed to catch the firelight, throwing it back at her. His eyes narrowed as his nostrils flared slightly. He leaned toward her. Instinct had her backing up until she hit the counter.
    Micah slid forward, putting his arms on either side of her. She heard the clink of his coffee cup landing on the counter behind her. She should feel trapped-instead she felt the heat of his gaze burning her. Olivia tilted her head up as her tongue darted out over her lips. His eyes tracked the movement and she knew a kiss had to be next.
    Instead, Micah drew soft knuckles down her cheek. “Come to the couch, Olivia. Let’s talk.”
    She followed him to the sofa, drinking in the way his shoulders moved.
And his ass.
Olivia heard her own small sigh. The man had the nicest rear she’d ever seen. Everything about him seemed sculpted and perfect. Her nipples tightened. What would he feel like naked under her hands?
    “Olivia?” Micah turned back to her. His eyes seemed to melt when he looked at her. She turned her head to the side, embarrassed by her own thoughts.
    “Sorry.” She offered him a smile. “I got caught up in thinking about my article.”
    He folded himself down to the couch, patting a cushion beside him. “Sit and tell me what you’re writing. I’m fascinated to hear what you have so far.”
    Olivia launched into her article. She spoke for some time until the crackling of the fire distracted her. “I’m sorry. You must be bored stiff.” She smiled at Micah.
    “On the contrary, I think you’re incredible. To take what we did and turn it into that is amazing to me. I can’t do that. You are a natural-born storyteller.”
    Olivia felt her skin warm at the praise. “Thank you, Daddy always said…” her voice trailed off.
    “Olivia?” Micah reached out to stroke her hair.
    “I’m sorry. That’s so unusual for me to remember my birth father. I just had this clear memory of him laughing at me and telling me I was born to tell tales like my Babushka.”
    “Babushka? Isn’t that Russian?”
    “I think so. My birth name was Volksson.”
    Micah jerked. “I know some Volkssons but they live in upstate New York above Buffalo.”
    “Really? I tried to find family once. I was sixteen and found my adoption papers. I mean I knew I was adopted but I thought maybe I could find someone who would know.” She stopped herself. “Sorry, it was just a girl’s dream of wanting to belong to someone.”
    Micah wrapped a long arm around her shoulders. Olivia let herself lean into him. “I’ve always wanted to belong to someone, you know? I had family with the Decaturs until I kill…until they died.”
    Micah’s soft voice rasped in her ear. “Killed them? Olivia, you told me they died in a car wreck.”
    A shudder racked her as she took a deep breath. “Micah, I was thirteen. We were driving home from a band concert. My mother and I were arguing about whether or not I could go to the Harvest Dance. I remember it all so very clearly. The moon looked like some giant spotlight and I thought if I didn’t get to go to that dance, I might as well die.
    “Then I don’t know what happened. Something must have run out in the road. When I came to, I was standing by this oak tree. My clothes were ripped and torn. They were hanging off me. I saw